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LETTERS.
69
LETTER XXVI.
October 1.
It is a heartless task to write letters, without knowing whether they will ever reach you.—I have given two to ———, who has been a-going, a-going, every day, for a week past; and three others, which were written in a low-spirited strain, a little querulous or so, I have not been able to forward by the opportunities that were mentioned to me. Tant mieux! you will say, and I will not say nay; for I should be sorry that the contents of a letter, when you are so far away, should damp the pleasure that the sight of it would afford—judging of your feelings by my own.
I just
